A Rising Silver Sun
by three-golden-mockingjays
Summary: The Career alliance is breaking down... Cato is injured, Marvel is missing, and Glimmer and Clove are left to talk about stars, blondes and lovesickness. Started off as a one-shot, but I decided to continue it, so give it a try and let me know what you think. T because its the Hunger Games.
1. Chapter 1

Was there ever a sky as beautiful as the one tonight? It rolled on, never ending, surely it had no bounds.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Glimmer whispered, trying to block out the laboured breathing of the injured boy lying besides the two, "Look how many stars there are!"

"There are always this many stars, you stupid blonde. Where have you been all your life?" Clove snapped, and fed some sticks to the fire.

Glimmer looked hurt, but didn't back down, "I'm not stupid Clove." Glimmer knew that. She never saw the stars back in District 1 because of all the smog and lights.

But if Clove wanted to think she was smart, so be it.

"Sure," said Clove stonily, rolling her eyes moodily.

"Just ask Marvel," persisted Glimmer, "He'll tell you I'm not dumb. And I bet he'll be surprised with the sky too. I can't be the only one."

"Marvel isn't coming," Clove said for the billionth time.

"He wouldn't just leave us," said Glimmer quietly, it had been the only thing she had been sure of, but Marvel was meant to have met them this morning, meant to have brought them food, and that had been over 12 miserable hours ago. He was meant to have helped them save Cato.

"You refuse to think badly of Marvel," scowled Clove, "You are so lovesick it's pathetic. Just accept that he doesn't care about us. He doesn't care about our alliance. He doesn't care that Cato is dying. He went off to go 'get us some food and stuff' and didn't let any of us come with him, and we didn't follow him because we're stupid," Clove's voice cracked as she looked down at Cato lying next to them, eyes closed, breathing harsh.

Glimmer rolled her eyes, "I'm not lovesick Clove. You've only known me for about a week, and you've already decided you know everything about me. Didn't Marvel tell you that you sucked at reading people?" Clove showed no expression on her face, but Glimmer could tell that she was remembering that moment.

_"He cares about you Clove, you're just too scared of love to see it," Marvel said gently. "Okay Marvel, how about you just shut the fuck up. No-one asked you okay?" Clove tossed her hair and walked away from him, scowling._

"A blind person could see it, you're not exactly subtle," Clove allowed her signature smirk to cross her face.

"Fine" scowled Glimmer, "I like him, but I'm not lovesick. I have a life beyond Marvel, you know."

"'Course you do," Clove's voice dripped with sarcasm, and her smirk was still in place, illuminated by the firelight.

"I hate you Clove. You know that, right?" Glimmer's voice was light, from the tone you'd guess she was confirming the time or something.

"'Course I do," grinned Clove, "And Blondie, I hate you too." And without warning, Clove let out a strangled sobbing sound, then slapped her hand over her mouth like she'd done something wrong.

"What…" Glimmer's jaw dropped, and Clove glared at her with swimming green eyes. "What if he dies?" she asked in a wobbling voice, "What if Marvel dies, and Cato dies, and we're all alone? What if one of us wins, and is stuck in the arena forever, trying to figure out a way they could have saved the people in their past until they die?"

"Oh Clove," Glimmer sighed, "We're stuffed, aren't we?"

"Probably," Clove choked miserably, beginning to cry properly, "Why did we volunteer again?"

"I don't even know," Glimmer scowled miserably, "We're so goddamn dumb." The two girls cried for a while, the fire crackling next to Cato in the cave beside them, the rain pelting down outside.

"Hey Clove," Glimmer said, her voice suddenly mischievous, "You're lovesick. With Cato." Clove scowled through her tears, resenting Glimmer as she threw her words back at her.

"No, I'm not lovesick."

"I don't blame you Clover," Cato's voice croaked from behind them, and the two girls jumped.

"Don't flatter yourself Cato, your ego is already dangerously large," Clove recovered quickly, wiping tears off her cheeks under the cover of wiping a few strands of damp, inky black hair out of her face.

"I love you Clove," Cato tried to reach out to her with a small smile on his blood-stained face, but she pushed him back onto the floor gently.

"That's the fever talking Cato," Clove tried to suppress the small smile playing on her lips, "Open up, you need water."

Glimmer sat there, smiling at the two as Clove nursed Cato, who smiled at her like he would never tire of looking at her. She felt lonely, and missed the feeling of being loved. What if Marvel didn't come back, like Clove had said before? Would she make it through the games? Or would it be like Clove said, she would win, but mentally, be trapped in the arena forever, trying to save Marvel, save Cato, save Clove? The endless night began to fade to day, the stars becoming less and less visible in the slowly lighting sky.

As the sun came up, she took a deep breath and watched the silver-gold light rise. Maybe there was hope in there after all. And if she were to spend the rest of her life, mentally trying to figure this place out, she didn't suppose it would be such a bad place to stay.

**Well that was strange. It kind of came to me randomly, so let me know what you think. Reviews are always appreciated :) -L**


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm tired of making up threats for you,_

_It's time for me to go away,_

_Turn your face up to the sky,_

_'Cause baby it's your judgement day_

_You might shrink under the lights,_

_They're bright, they sparkle, make you sigh,_

_It's time to turn the other cheek,_

_Today you learn that you are weak_

_I guess that you weren't ever mine,_

_Though you put your heart out on the line,_

_If only we had enough time,_

_I really miss your smile_

_I can't help you, I am here,_

_Accept that one day you'll shed tears,_

_No sip from a saving grail,_

_Your strength was always gonna fail_

_Your future is not for you to say,_

_Baby it's your judgement day._

"How's Cato?" Clove asked in an undertone to Glimmer as she returned from her trip hunting, soaked to the skin and without any meat for her troubles. "Like shit," Glimmer said glumly, "He has lain there babbling on about nothing the whole time. I think he's got a fever." "I'm okay," Cato protested feebly, before beginning to murmur about life back in District 2 with a startling intensity.

Glimmer rolled her eyes, the long day wasn't getting any better, and though Clove shivered with cold, Glimmer wished she had been the one to go hunting, escaping the cave, it's depressed atmosphere and Cato's incessant muttering. They couldn't move, not with Cato in that condition, and Glimmer was seriously considering leaving herself. What was left for her in the crumbling alliance?

But she couldn't leave, because really, she didn't want to. There was too much she'd miss. She'd miss Clove, and all their talks they had, staying up at night. She'd miss the first real friend, the girl who took her seriously, despite her looks. And Cato. God, she'd miss him too. It was his voice, almost constant in the past twelve hours, and before that, his laboured breaths, which let her know that she was alive and conscious, and not in some boring, rain-filled dream. Glimmer tried to remember Cato before his injury, and found, after a few minutes of starved concentration, found memories flooding back.

The old Cato seemed an entirely different person, so full of life and cockiness. If anyone had told him that he would let the boy from District 12 into his alliance, and later get stabbed in his sleep by him, Cato would have laughed his head off. Well, Glimmer thought wryly, and Clove tried to explain to Cato that no, they couldn't go home just yet, overconfidence never got you anywhere.

"But I don't like it here," Cato was saying agitatedly, "I want to go home, the doctor can see me there. I'm much safer in his hands than yours." Clove fought back tears. Cato, her Cato, was losing his mind. "I know I'm not much of a doctor Cato," she soothed, "But I'm the best we've got. We can't go home yet, we're in the games. You remember. The Hunger Games? Fight to the death? Twenty four go in, one comes…" her voice trailed off before she finished the well known phrase, which was practically the slogan of the games. At this point, Clove didn't see the point in reminding Cato that there was no possible happy ever after for either of them.

"Anyway, I'll go see if we can spare any more food. I'm sure you're hungry," Clove was saying evasively. Cato had come back to himself out of the blue, and at an amazing speed, and was more than aware of their situation. "But Clove, you're not planning on dying, are you? Let me go, I'm the injured one. You know, you girls should really move on…" Clove was feigning deafness, Cato was working himself up into a fit, and Glimmer was trying, and failing, to rise above it all. She couldn't help it, she needed to go. She needed Marvel.

Clove was looking forlornly at their largely diminished food supplies. "I knew we shouldn't have let Marvel take that much," she said venomously, holding an apple in either hand, trying to figure out which one was the best. She tossed the larger, shinier one to Cato, and took a bite out of the measly one left in her right hand. "Sorry," she said, turning around and seeing Glimmer, "That was the last one. If you're hungry, you can have some crackers." Glimmer shook her head numbly, and gulped, preparing to tell the most important lie she ever had.

"If you call this food, you've gone nuts too," Glimmer began smoothly, ignoring Cato's 'Oi!' of protest at being referred to as nuts, "I'm going to get us some meat." "I couldn't get anything," Clove said, her eyebrows raised disbelievingly, "Now you're trying? Aren't you cold enough without being drenched?" Glimmer shrugged, she could feel a lump rising in her throat and knew she had to get out soon, "I'm cold, but nowhere near as cold as I am hungry! Just because you can't get anything, doesn't mean I can't. I want to help you Clove. I want to help Cato. And I want something to eat."

Clove looked at her in a pitying way. She didn't give her any of that, "You don't have to do this," crap. She knew that Glimmer was planning on finding Marvel, and doubted she would ever see the blonde, as an ally, again. "Okay," she said, "Some rabbits or something would be great. Don't try to pick anything though, I don't trust your plants knowledge." Clove couldn't bring herself to smile, but stepped out into the rain with Glimmer. "Good luck blondie," she said with a small smile, "I hope you find him." She brushed her lips against Glimmer's cheek, the same farewell her twin sister had given to her before leaving for the games. Glimmer recognised the sisterly gesture, and smiled like nothing was wrong, "You're right, it is cold in the rain." Clove grimaced, trying to smile but failing miserably, "I'll see you for dinner Blondie."

"Damn right you will," agreed Glimmer, and she lived her lie for twenty minutes, pretending that she was on a simple hunting trip for Clove. But eventually, she broke down, crying on a rock, wondering if she'd just made all the wrong decisions, and left all the wrong people, for someone who left her to die.

**Well I got told to continue so I did, and I hoped you liked that second chapter. That strange little thing I put up at the start was something I thought of while I was coming home from school... I don't even know where it came from. I decided to put up a little poem, quote, etc. at the start of each chapter, and they're not necessarily linked to each chapter. Just saying... well anyway hope you enjoyed give me some reviews! :) -L**


	3. Chapter 3

_The worst part is you know me all too well,_  
_So don't take advantage of my transparent self_

_-A random song that I heard somewhere and can't seem to track... don't sue me._

Apparently the viewers in the Capitol were big fans of rain. It hadn't stopped in days and days, ever since Cato had been stabbed really, and it didn't look like ever ending. Glimmer tried not to think of Cato and Clove, left to die in the cave, hardly any food. Did Cato believe she would return with food? Clove knew it was a lie from the start, after all.

_You shouldn't be thinking about them, _she told herself, _they're your past now. _What did that make her future? Marvel? Glimmer had tried to stop herself thinking about him, but she supposed that he was the reason she was freezing, in the rain, without much food, and missing Cato and Clove. Marvel had gone suddenly, and everyone was too disoriented and panicked to even think twice about it. She remembered it though, as clear as day.

_-Flashback-_

_"You're going to die, you filthy traitor!" Clove had screamed as the first drops of rain began to fall, and Peeta had done nothing but stand there, nodding his head, like a creature stunned. Glimmer had looked away as Clove seized one of her knives and brought her hand back to throw it. Usually she would have tortured her victim, especially considering that he had just attacked the boy she loved, but Clove was too worried about Cato to draw out Peeta's death. The cannon had sounded swiftly, the birds launching from the trees in terror, in alarming synchrony too. _

_"Glimmer!" Clove's voice was urgent, high-pitched, agonised, "Glimmer help me!" Glimmer tried to staunch the blood pouring out of Cato's wound, small but deep, low in his abdomen. Too low to have hit his lungs, but if Glimmer could remember any of her anatomy, it was right over his left kidney… The blood wasn't stopping, and the rain was getting heavier by the second. Clove was speaking sternly into Cato's dazed face, "Keep still, okay? We've got you, Lover Boy's dead, we're going to try to stop the bleeding… just keep calm, okay?" Cato gave her a grimace of understanding, gasping weakly, "Holy shit Clove. I've been stabbed." _

_That was when Marvel came into the picture. He seemed to have packed up their remaining things, and had it all on his back. He gave one pack to a wincing Clove, and the rolled up tent on to Glimmer's own back, then walked over to Cato's feet, "Lie down flat, okay mate? It'll be much better for you in long run if you don't try to walk." Clove gave Marvel a thankful smile from her position at Cato's head, and they lifted him off the ground. Perhaps it was for helping her move him, but Glimmer thought it had more to do with the fact that Marvel was speaking to Cato as though he had a 'long run.' _

_"Get in here girls," Marvel said distractedly, laying Cato down on a bed of leaves and ushering the girls inside the fairly roomy cave. He dumped the bags in the corner and lit a fire, he could hardly keep himself still. After ten minutes of having nothing to do, Marvel was restless again. "I should go get us some food." "Don't be stupid Marvel," Glimmer had snapped, hugging her jacket against herself, "The sun's going down, we've got plenty for now. Settle down Marvel."_

_When Glimmer woke up, there was a vacant space in the cave to her left. "Marvel," her lips formed the words, but no sound came out. Glimmer bit back tears, "Why did you go?"_

_-End of flashback-_

"Marvel!" she called desperately in a loneliness induced lapse of judgement. She slapped her hand over her mouth, and raised her sword in a a shaking hand, ivory white in the low temperature. Whether it was the cold or the fear of being discovered that caused the tremor in her arm she wouldn't know. "Marvel," she whimpered, "Please."

There was a soft sound from behind her that sounded like swift movement, and everything went black.

**Oooh, cliffhanger! Sorry, I think that was a little shorter than my others, though I could be completely wrong as I haven't checked the word count. Hope you enjoyed, and please review! -L**


	4. Chapter 4

**It has come to my attention that in my first two chapters I described Marvel's leaving very differently to what I've got now. I know that's awful of me, having the storyline change around, but maybe you can just ignore it and pick one of the situations? I'm such a terrible writer, and I'm awfully lazy too. If you think it's a big enough deal for me to re-upload one of them and replace it let me know which version of Marvel's ditching you like better and I can fix it. I just can't bring myself to do it just now when no-one has requested it. I am stupidly hoping no-one noticed! Anyway, enough of me, enjoy the next chapter :) -L**

_We're lost in a cloud_

_With too much rain_

_We're trapped in a world_

_That's troubled with pain_

_But as long as a man_

_Has the strength to dream_

_He can redeem his soul and fly._

_-If I Can Dream, Elvis Presley_

When Glimmer woke up, she was surprised to find herself alive and feeling healthy. She was scared to open her eyes for whole minutes, and lay there on what felt like a bed on pine needles, her hands clenched inside the pockets of her rain jacket. Eventually she opened her heavy lids and saw the ceiling of a cave. A drop of water dripped down onto her face, and her eyes instinctively closed again, sealing her in blackness.

Where was she? Her initial, and childish thought, was that she was in the cave with Cato and Clove. Maybe they had rescued her, maybe it had never even happened. Maybe it was all a dream.

Oh, who was she kidding?

She opened her eyes once more, and looked around tentatively. The cave wasn't unlike the one that she had stayed in previously, except it was much smaller. She sat up slowly and looked behind her. She screamed. Marvel laughed, "Sorry about that, I was wondering when you were going to notice me." Glimmer stared at him wearily, "What happened?" Marvel sighed, and began to explain.

"I left because I was scared of hurting any of you," Marvel sounded ashamed of himself, just in the subtle tone of voice he used, "I was scared of becoming a monster. I thought it would be easier to slip away during the night than to deal with the aftermath of killing one of you. So I left." Glimmer gulped, trying to keep tears from spilling out of her eyes, "Who knocked me out?" "That was the redhead," Marvel said grimly, "I've been hunting her for days, trying to keep my mind off you guys. Turns out she's amazing with nets. Once she's got you trapped, she'll concuss you." "And you saved me?" Glimmer asked hesitantly, not comprehending much of what she heard. Marvel nodded, "I couldn't just leave you there."

Something inside Glimmer snapped, and she screeched, "But you could leave me in that cave! You could disappear in the middle of the night, without so much as a simple goodbye, knowing full well that I needed you Marvel Haddington! I needed you, and you were gone!" Marvel sighed, and Glimmer was surprised to see his blue eyes shiny with tears, "I honestly thought you were safer there Glimmer. I wanted to help you."

But by then Glimmer had cracked, and there was no stopping her hysterical rant, "You left me! I wasn't safe! Cato was dying and Clove just wanted to help him and we had no food and it was raining and…" Glimmer began to cry, accenting her words with sobs, "I love you… and if you… love someone… you don't leave them! Friends… they stick… together! No matter what!"

Marvel reached out slowly, and took Glimmer's shaking hand in both of his own, "Please, Glim, I did the wrong thing, I know that, I knew that from the moment I left. You have to forgive me, we have to work together now." Glimmer looked at him with big green eyes, and gave the most subtle of nods. They sat in depressing silence for far too long to be comfortable, before Glimmer thought of something to say.

"Who's left?" she asked in a toneless voice, as though she didn't care at all. Marvel copied her tone as he reeled off, "You, me, Cato, Clove, redhead from five, both from eleven, Rue and Thresher or something…" Glimmer interrupted him, "The twelve years old's alive?" Marvel nodded, "And finally, Katniss." Glimmer high-fived him unenthusiastically, "We've made the top eight." He smiled weakly at her, but after that, they fell back into silence.

"We're not going back. Are we?" Glimmer asked in the smallest of voices. Marvel shook his head, "I don't think so. There can't four victors." "There can't be two either," Glimmer pointed out, and Marvel shook his head sadly, "That's why I want to spend the time I have with you."


	5. Chapter 5

_I love you more than ever, more than time and more than love,_

_I love you more than money and more than the stars above,_

_Love you more than madness, more than waves upon the sea,_

_Love you more than life itself, you mean that much to me_

_-Wedding Song, Bob Dylan_

Clove was too scared to go hunting anymore. What if she returned and Cato was gone? Dead? Needing her? So she stayed in the cave on her constant vigil, not eating much anymore, even though she knew it was foolish to let her strength get down, and invest in such a sick boy. Who knew if he'd last the night?

The academy taught you hardly any forms of healing, except for the ones you could do yourself, to yourself. So for instance, they knew how to give themselves their own injection, and roll their shoulder back in if it was dislocated, but not how to treat a stab wound to anywhere vital, like Cato. They figured that you'd be in no condition to fix it yourself, which Cato wasn't, and didn't believe in allies treating them, as Clove was. It was expected of them to leave the injured and the weak to die. But how could Clove leave someone she loved, who had always been there, all through her life? What would it feel like not to have him at her side?

Still, it hadn't been that long ago that Clove was taken under the apprenticeship of her aunt, who was a healer by trade, who was convinced that Clove would win the games, and would then need an occupation. So she figured she had some hope in saving Cato. Oh, what would her aunt be saying now? She had no trouble guessing what Enobaria would be doing though, which was probably the human equivalent of breathing fire. Although, now that she thought about it, Clove wouldn't be surprised to learn that Enobaria was a dragon. Clove chided herself for getting so distracted, and looked down at Cato, who was in a fitful sleep. Clove thought back to all those rather tedious days with her aunt, learning plants and symptoms and bandaging techniques. She thought about all the things she had ever been taught about stab wounds, kidneys and fevers. And then she realised what was going to happen… most likely.

Cato, sometime during a sleep, this sleep in fact, was going to take a turn. He was either going to get much better, very quickly, or much worse, even more rapidly. If he got better, she had high hopes for his recovery, if not, there wasn't much she could do to help him. She laid a hand on his, and realised that she couldn't even begin to contemplate life without him.

The waiting game was torturous. Her head exaggerated everything, every pause between Cato's breaths seemed like an age, and she thought that he died every time. She had never been this tense, and was constantly checking his pulse, tapping her toes fitfully against the stone floor of the cave, shivering as the cold wind blew in. Somewhere between trying to figure out how many beats per minute Cato's heart was going and her own heart racing when she thought he wasn't going to draw another breath, she inexplicably fell asleep. Later on, she would always wonder how she managed to do so under such high stress, but on the other hand, thinking that the most important person in your life died every few seconds was very draining.

When she woke up, the sun had risen, and Clove was furious with herself. She whipped around to check on Cato, her heart racing along at it's own pace completely. He was breathing steadily and slowly. Thank god. She reached out to check his forehead with a shaking hand. It was cool.

"Yes!" shrieked Clove in victory," Yes, yes, yes!" Cato stirred and opened his eyes slowly, "What?" Clove clapped her hand over her mouth and laughed, "Oh, I'm sorry Cato!" she laughed, "I forgot you were… conscious." Cato grinned, "And you didn't care?" Clove rolled her eyes, "You're an idiot Cato, and you're not all better yet!" she warned as he tried to get up and lay back down promptly, his head swimming.

"So tomorrow, we'll go, won't we?" Cato asked for the billionth time, a bored child on a rainy day. "Yes, if you shut up and eat this." "Ok," Cato said, propping himself up on his elbows, "Firstly, I hate this cave, so I'm not going to shut up any time soon. Secondly, that is disgusting." Clove rolled her eyes, "I have mastered weaponry and nursing, do I really have to master cooking now?" "It would help," Cato braced himself and drank a giant mouthful of Clove's 'soup' then coughed dramatically.

Clove scowled at him, but was too happy to render herself truly angry, "It can't be that bad." She tried some, and was sent into a coughing fit. Between coughs she managed to choke out, "Well… I guess… I could try… a little… harder." Cato laughed his head off, then had to stop and lie down again, overcome with a wave of dizziness. Clove began to laugh as well, but suddenly, he held up a hand to silence her, "Trumpets," he said urgently.

And he was right. The trumpets signalling the beginning of an announcement were blasted throughout the arena, and Claudius Templesmith's voice followed soon after. "Attention tributes! We have had a rule change. Two tributes may be crowned victor, as long as they both originate from the same district." The two looked at each other slowly, smiles beginning to dawn on their faces as they realised what was going on. Then all of a sudden they were shouting and hugging and kissing and laughing.

Late at night, after they had resigned their bodies to rest but given up on their minds ever stopping their restless thinking, Cato gave Clove's hand a squeeze. She turned out look at him, he couldn't see the colour in her eyes, but felt it all the same. "Hey Clove, I just thought of something," he said lightly, shuffling around a bit to make himself comfortable, "You really are going to have to work on your cooking, because if we go home together, I'm definitely living with you."

**Well I hoped you enjoyed that one, because I felt kind of inspired while writing that and I hope that had positive effects on the story. Today is the last day of my beautiful four day Melbourne Cup long weekend, and I don't think I will be updating quite as much after I go back to school, but I will try my best. I just have a lot of assessments etc. going on. Thanks for reading, let me know if you have any constructive criticism! Also, I haven't bothered to change the chapters where I describe Marvel's disappearance as no-one has said it is a problem. If you think it is, just review and let me know. THANK YOU! :) -L**


	6. Chapter 6

_'Don't drink the voices,'_

_The ghostly choir cries,_

_'Don't savour deceit_

_Or reward those who lie.'_

The rain had finally stopped. Clove didn't know whether it was due to the fact that the arena was flooding in lower areas, or that the Capitol audience was (dare she say it,) bored of the Hunger Games, the ultimate entertainment? She hated to think that that was what the games were to the foolish Capitol citizens, kids were dying, and they got upset if it wasn't gory enough. She knew that it meant more to President Snow. To all the previous dictators of their crumbling country. It struck an irreversible fear into their hearts.

"Hey Clove," Cato interrupted her troubled train of thoughts as he stooped to pick something off a low-lying bush, "Do you reckon these are edible?" Clove held out her palm, and Cato tipped the satiny blue-black berries into her pale white hand. "They look kind of like blueberries," Clove said doubtfully, tipping them from her left palm to her right, and sniffed them hesitantly, as though they might bite. She crushed them between her fingers and blood red juice spilled out. "Definitely not blueberries," Cato said hastily, beginning to move again as Clove cast them onto the ground.

Not much happened for the rest of the afternoon, the arena getting gradually colder, and the two careers' tempers were getting shorter and shorter. "For God's sake, why are your feet so loud?" Clove snapped agitatedly, "Can't you just be a little quieter?" Cato scowled, "If I could, I would. Or aren't you intelligent enough to get that?" Clove stomped in frustration, "I hate you."

Cato's face fell, "Please don't say that Clove," he said weakly. Clove's shoulders sagged and she breathed out, like the tall girl was deflating into an old, worn out person. "I didn't mean that," she sighed, hugging him tightly, "It's just that this sucks," she let out a small, strangled sobbing noise. "Oh Clover," Cato said, sighing, "We'll be out before you know it." "But I'm hungry and tired, and my feet are cold, and I miss my family, and I miss the trainers and running in the morning and…" her voice trailed off and died.

"Clove what is it?" Cato whispered urgently, as Clove turned her head away from the spot she had been staring at seconds ago, shaking her head rapidly, "Never mind Cato," Clove said quickly, "I'm just… you know, losing it." Cato looked at her, alarmed, "Clove, are you sure you're alright?" She grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him off in the almost complete opposite direction, "I'm fine, Cato. And I think this way would be a brilliant direction to go in." Cato shook his head, bemused, and walked after her, giving up an argument he clearly wouldn't win.

The truth was that Clove had glimpsed something through the bushes that made her heart skip a beat, made her stomach drop and her entire body seize up in terror. A flash of blonde through the dense trees, brown boots, green District 1 jacket. No, jackets. Above the blonde head, Clove had caught sight of the sandy brown hair of Marvel.

Logically thinking, with a fully healed Cato and the element of surprise on their side, it was probably a good time, no - the best time, to knock off their biggest threat. But Clove's instincts didn't give her time to decide. Her instincts didn't want confrontation, didn't want to kill the girl who was her friend, and didn't want to kill the boy who was the light of that friend's day. Clove made the decision and acted on it so quickly that she had no time to think logically. She simply couldn't do it. And she was scared that made her weak.

She and Cato trekked well into the night, that being their preferred time to hunt. Little was said, and not much was needed. At one point, where Clove looked so thoroughly miserable in Cato's torchlight that his heart ached for her, Cato stripped off his dry socks and gave them to her, as she was damp calves down from the time she stepped in a bog in the darkness. Clove didn't protest, she had a sneaking suspicion her toes might have fallen off soon, but said only the words, "They're going back to you first thing in the morning."

From the glints of silver sunlight beginning to crawl across the arena, Cato and Clove were able to judge that dawn was about an hour away, and were looking for some place to each get a few hours sleep when Cato threw his hand across Clove's chest, stopping her movement. He signalled silently to his ear, mouthing, "Hear that?

Clove took his lead and strained her ears, listening for whatever Cato had detected. She couldn't hear anything, the arena was eerily silent, and she was about to snap at Cato that not everyone had ears like a bat when she heard it. A young girl's cry, unintelligible words desperate and edged with tears. Surely, from the tone, it was a cry for help? The big sister instinct inside of Clove wanted to rush off and help her, but in the early hours of the morning her killer instinct switched on, and her mouth curved into a wicked smile, "The twelve year old." Cato nodded, "Rue."

The two Careers were about halfway towards the voice, from the sound of it, when suddenly, the voice was abruptly cut-off. "Is she?" Clove began asking, but the deep, chilling sound of the canon cut her off. "Dead," Cato confirmed, "But her killer is probably around here somewhere." They continued moving towards the general location of where the sound had been, trying to mix stealth with speed, moving silently through the woods like only those who had trained for years, or perhaps a wild animal, could do.

When they reached the place where the voice had originally been coming from, the two teenagers were confronted with a scene that jolted them, regardless of the training they had gone through, twisting them into monsters. Rue, so unbelievably tiny in death, lay dead on the ground with her hands clasped on her chest, and covered in flowers, not a drop of blood spilled. She had been caught in a net, it seemed, which lay around her, the tattered ropes hacked off her by someone. Someone had untangled this little girl. But who? Clove crept over to the body on light feet, for some reason, she couldn't bear to break the seemingly fragile silence in the breaking dawn. Drops of bright red lay around the little girl's mouth, but it wasn't blood.

Clove looked down at the midnight black berries that lay around Rue's head. "Well," she said in a shaking voice as she stood up from her kneeling position beside the corpse, "We were right. These are poisonous. Someone force fed them to her." "What?" Cato's face radiated pure disbelief, "That person knows more about plants than us." "So it wasn't Glimmer or Marvel, none of us know shit about plants. Plus, they have weapons, so why would they use these anyway? No, it's someone without weapons and who doesn't have the physical strength to kill her with bare hands." Cato nodded, "Well asides from Rue, who I doubt killed herself, there is only one person in the arena like that." Clove let out a long sigh, "Autumn. Female tribute from District 5. Red hair, and hang around the plants station all training…" Clove put a hand to her forehead, "Where do you reckon she is?"

It was then that Cato spotted it, a bloody arrow on the ground, almost unnoticeable with Rue drawing your eyes, regardless of how horrible the sight of her dead body was. Clove put the pieces together in her mind, "Autumn trapped Rue in her net and force fed her the nightlock.. It would have been easy if she was all tied up, just would have had to pinch her nose shut until she opened her mouth to breathe," Clove's voice was colourless and she spoke in a monotone, trying not to let the words affect her as they escaped her lips, "Someone was in an alliance with Rue. Someone who cut the net off her and covered her in flowers and attacked Autumn." Cato was deep in thought, but wasn't putting the pieces together as well as Clove die to lack of sleep, "Maybe it was her District partner." Clove rolled her eyes, "With an arrow! Remember Glimmer whinging about how she didn't get the arrows at the Cornucopia because Katniss frigging Everdeen got them?"

**Well I'm not exactly sure if you could call that a cliffhanger, but it was a very random place to stop. I hope you are enjoying this story, I didn't really have much inspiration early in the chapter, but once I got some ideas I think it flowed okay. Reviews would be very nice, and very useful! Either way, thanks for reading! I love to see all the views when I wake up or get home from school or whatever! -L**


	7. Chapter 7

"If Autumn's injured, we can find her and finally finish her," Clove said, trying to find some brightness in the depressing situation. Cato nodded, "Come on, lets go find her, I can't stand to look at a dead twelve year old anymore. It's just not fair to put them in, you know?" Clove let out a glum, "Yeah," as Cato had just voiced her exact thoughts.

And so they hunted. And hunted. And hunted. But even injured, the mysterious red head was still invisible to anyone but herself. Even the cameras of the Capitol had issues finding her, tucked up in her hole, nursing a hip wound. No blood trails, no footprints, no sound as she had slipped through the forest. Cato and Clove were but a metre away, and they simply couldn't find her. Well, until she decided she didn't want to play the game any more.

The cannon sounded as loud as ever, and Clove still jumped every time, "Who do you reckon that was?" They were as shocked as anyone else when the claw of the hovercraft descended right next to them, "We're still alive, dumb thing," Cato even murmured, and Clove struggled to hold in a laugh, grinning at her district partner. When the claw plunged through a bush and seemingly through solid ground, and came out with Autumn, they were even more surprised. "She had a hole," Clove said in disbelief, as Cato inspected her body, "Hip wound from the arrow… not big enough to kill you, and not infected…" then his eyes widened, "Her too? Clove, look at her lips!"

Clove looked closely and saw it, the red stain of nightlock upon her mouth, "She committed suicide."

They continued walking, falling back into their depressed reverie, induced by boredom, the cold, and all the death going on around them. They were taught not to let that catch up with them, not to let it get them down, but Clove just couldn't help it. "Would you ever do what she did?"

Cato was thrown by Clove's morbid question, but did his best to answer, "What, suicide? I guess so, if things got really bad." Clove looked thoroughly miserable, "You're stronger than me then." Cato's mouth opened it the most subtle of gasps, "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. It's bad enough now, for me."

"Clove…" Cato was at a loss for words, "How could you even think of that? Asides from Glimmer and Marvel, we're the only team. We've been training forever, and we're better than those two from District 1 anyway. We'll win, we'll leave, and we'll…" Clove cut him off, "Have nightmares forever, and feel guilty about killing all those people, no, scratch that, killing all those _children, _and forever be idolised by kids because we succeeded in killing untrained kids from other districts, and they'll want to be just like us. Killers."

Cato groaned, "Clove, you're not a bad person, you're really not. We kill people. We kill children. We're bloodthirsty and probably insane. But we're not all bad. At least you feel terrible about all this murdering. If you were evil, you wouldn't. Plus, I'm pretty sure no kids will ever want to be like _us_." Clove make a noise that might have been a laugh, "Probably not. We'll be the reclusive, strange victors."

Cato smiled, the Clove he was used to had returned, full of grim humour and sporting a battler's smile. And things might have been okay then, if they hadn't decided to sleep far too close to the arena's edge for the Gamemaker's comfort.

**I'll be the first to admit that chapter was very short, and it pretty much sucked. I was lacking inspiration, but I was desperate to give some kind of a chapter to you. Sorry about the lousy result. On the upside, I think I have got some actualy plans for the next chapter, which hopefully means it will be much longer and more interesting that this one, and maybe updated a bit faster. Thank you for bearing with me, my wonderful readers! Reviews are well-loved! -L**


	8. Chapter 8

_Now wait, wait, wait for me,_

_Please hang around,_

_I'll see you when I fall asleep_

_-Little Talks, Of Monsters and Men_

When Clove awoke, the first thing she was aware of was that underneath her zipped up jacket, she wasn't wearing a shirt. The second thing, the searing pain from the burn up her leg, despite it being soaked in water. The third, Cato's absence. Instantly her heart rate quickened, and she looked around fearfully. She tried to speak, but no words came out, reminding her almost deadly misadventure a few minutes previously.

_Cato. Cato. Where are you?_

As panicked as she was, Clove's ill health ensured her drifting back into an uneasy sleep, alone by a river, in an arena full of children wanting to kill her.

* * *

When Cato returned, the first thing he was aware of was Clove's eyes closed, her body still. No. She couldn't be dead. He would have heard a cannon. But she could be dying. As he ran over to her on swift feet , and knelt beside her motionless body, the second thing he realised was her chest rising up and down. She was breathing. She was just asleep. The third thing, the blood staining his hands. Clove didn't want to hear that he'd killed another first thing when she woke up. Even if it was Katniss, who Clove had hated with a passion. Cato wasn't a big fan of having a young girl's blood on his hands, not after the initial rush of bloodlust that came with murder. Beautiful in doing, horrible in the aftermath. And so, he began to wash them in the stream.

It was a good distraction from Clove's disconcerting silence and stillness.

* * *

The second time Clove woke up, she had no intentions of falling back to sleep. She still couldn't find her voice, but she didn't need it. Somehow, the second she regained her consciousness, Cato knew, and turned from the stream to her, his hands still faintly stained with Katniss' blood.

"Oh thank god you're alright," Cato sighed in relief, one thousand tonnes of worry lifted from his shoulders. It took a while for Clove to find her voice, she lay there smiling weakly at Cato for a while, before croaking out, "Why am I not wearing a shirt?"

"You vomited, and I thought I'd clean it," Cato explained, picking it up from the ground, "Here you go."

"You took it off of me?" Clove asked with a touch of mischief in her grin, waggling her eyebrows suggestively, but with less bravado than she might have usually done.

"No, Thresh did," Cato said sarcastically, "I was more concerned with your health than your chest, to be honest."

Cloved smiled, "I'm glad." She reached out and held his hand, "I'm glad I'm still alive."

"So am I."

"Who else is dead?" Clove asked after a few seconds of silence, in a graver tone than she had been using before when teasing and flirting while half asleep (quite a skill.) Cato's face looked like the kind of surprised you saw in cartoons, mouth open and eyebrows raised, the epitome of shock, "What?"

"I doubt it's my blood on your hands. They're wet, you've been washing them. And when I woke up before, I couldn't see you," Clove was calm and logical even while weak, her brain never stopping it's constant thinking. Cato gave in with a shrug, "Katniss. I was pacing, because turns out I do that when I think you're going to die, and then I saw her in the bushes. My rational brain even considered letting her go, what if I were injured? Then neither of us would win, let alone both of us win together. But I had the element of surprise there, and my instincts kicked in. All my training, all the bloodlust, she didn't have a chance. Unable to fight back in a matter of seconds, minutes until she was dead," Cato's voice was hollow, "Funny how good you feel while killing someone, but how bad you feel afterwards."

Clove nodded weakly in agreement, "Life's a bitch."

**I haven't gotten many reviews on the last few chapters, so I hope that doesn't mean I'm stuffing up the story. Please let me know if I am. Next chapter the plot will get going more, and there will be a lot more action. Should I stick with Cato and Clove, or should I give Marvel and Glimmer a focus? If you let me know, I will listen to you! -L**


	9. Chapter 9

_Now wait, wait, wait for me,_

_Please hang around,_

_I'll see you when I fall asleep_

_-Little Talks, Of Monsters and Men_

When Clove awoke, the first thing she was aware of was that underneath her zipped up jacket, she wasn't wearing a shirt. The second thing, the searing pain from the burn up her leg, despite it being soaked in water. The third, Cato's absence. Instantly her heart rate quickened, and she looked around fearfully. She tried to speak, but no words came out, reminding her almost deadly misadventure a few minutes previously.

_Cato. Cato. Where are you?_

As panicked as she was, Clove's ill health ensured her drifting back into an uneasy sleep, alone by a river, in an arena full of children wanting to kill her.

* * *

When Cato returned, the first thing he was aware of was Clove's eyes closed, her body still. No. She couldn't be dead. He would have heard a cannon. But she could be dying. As he ran over to her on swift feet , and knelt beside her motionless body, the second thing he realised was her chest rising up and down. She was breathing. She was just asleep. The third thing, the blood staining his hands. Clove didn't want to hear that he'd killed another first thing when she woke up. Even if it was Katniss, who Clove had hated with a passion. Cato wasn't a big fan of having a young girl's blood on his hands, not after the initial rush of bloodlust that came with murder. Beautiful in doing, horrible in the aftermath. And so, he began to wash them in the stream.

It was a good distraction from Clove's disconcerting silence and stillness.

* * *

The second time Clove woke up, she had no intentions of falling back to sleep. She still couldn't find her voice, but she didn't need it. Somehow, the second she regained her consciousness, Cato knew, and turned from the stream to her, his hands still faintly stained with Katniss' blood.

"Oh thank god you're alright," Cato sighed in relief, one thousand tonnes of worry lifted from his shoulders. It took a while for Clove to find her voice, she lay there smiling weakly at Cato for a while, before croaking out, "Why am I not wearing a shirt?"

"You vomited, and I thought I'd clean it," Cato explained, picking it up from the ground, "Here you go."

"You took it off of me?" Clove asked with a touch of mischief in her grin, waggling her eyebrows suggestively, but with less bravado than she might have usually done.

"No, Thresh did," Cato said sarcastically, "I was more concerned with your health than your chest, to be honest."

Cloved smiled, "I'm glad." She reached out and held his hand, "I'm glad I'm still alive."

"So am I."

"Who else is dead?" Clove asked after a few seconds of silence, in a graver tone than she had been using before when teasing and flirting while half asleep (quite a skill.) Cato's face looked like the kind of surprised you saw in cartoons, mouth open and eyebrows raised, the epitome of shock, "What?"

"I doubt it's my blood on your hands. They're wet, you've been washing them. And when I woke up before, I couldn't see you," Clove was calm and logical even while weak, her brain never stopping it's constant thinking. Cato gave in with a shrug, "Katniss. I was pacing, because turns out I do that when I think you're going to die, and then I saw her in the bushes. My rational brain even considered letting her go, what if I were injured? Then neither of us would win, let alone both of us win together. But I had the element of surprise there, and my instincts kicked in. All my training, all the bloodlust, she didn't have a chance. Unable to fight back in a matter of seconds, minutes until she was dead," Cato's voice was hollow, "Funny how good you feel while killing someone, but how bad you feel afterwards."

Clove nodded weakly in agreement, "Life's a bitch."

**I haven't gotten many reviews on the last few chapters, so I hope that doesn't mean I'm stuffing up the story. Please let me know if I am. Next chapter the plot will get going more, and there will be a lot more action. Should I stick with Cato and Clove, or should I give Marvel and Glimmer a focus? If you let me know, I will listen to you! -L**


	10. Chapter 10

star-crossed

_adjective_

destined to be unhappy: believed to be destined by fate to be unhappy

_ -a star-crossed political campaign from the outset_

[ the belief in the influence of the stars over human lives]

_Microsoft® Encarta® 2008. © 1993-2007 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved._

* * *

"So Katniss is dead now. Rue died. Girl from 5 is dead. That leaves us, Thresh, and Glimmer and Marvel. Top five!" Clove high-fived Cato in a weak and false attempt at cheer. All that any of them wanted was to get out. They trudged along in the dying sunlight, "Do you want to kill Glimmer and Marvel?" Clove asked as the sun finally gave up it's valiant fight, slipping out of sight beyond the horizon. The arena was dark, and all of a sudden, very cold.

"Of course not," Cato shook his head, "They were our friends."

_-Flashback-_

_"I dare you to eat that," Clove pointed to something that could have been a banana, except that it was fire-engine red and covered in small bumps. "Are you kidding?" Glimmer picked it up gingerly, "I'll die of food poisoning." "They wouldn't poison their precious tributes," Marvel said confidently, taking it out of Glimmer's tentative hands, "I'll eat it." And so he did, and after downing a big mouthful, beamed, "This is delicious!" "Give me some," Cato said enthusiastically, not wanting to be outdone, and managing to down almost the whole thing in one bite. There was a brief silence, before Cato spat it out, and the girls screamed as the three other careers shielded their faces from the blast._

_Marvel almost killed himself with laughter, "I can't believe I convinced you it was actually nice!" he said once his breathing returned to normal. Clove however, was by no means recovered from her hysteria, "There's some… in Marvel's hair!" she gasped through her laughter, tears beginning to stream down her face. Cato, partially over the initial wave of shame and embarrassment, laughed with her, wiping the tears from her face, his own face far too close to hers to be deemed appropriate by their mentors. He hugged her tight, "You're an idiot." Clove looked at him in mock disapproval, "Don't go ruining my fun, Cato Woods. That was…" she subsided back into laughter and tears for a few more seconds before she could continue, the mere memory getting the better of her serious face, "the funniest fucking thing I have ever seen!"_

_Glimmer rolled her eyes as Marvel gripped her hand under the table, "Shows how humour deprived we are."_

_-End flashback-_

However, Clove's question of 'do you want to kill Marvel and Glimmer?' really meant something else. It was obvious that Cato didn't want to kill his former allies and constant friends. The real question was 'can you kill Marvel and Glimmer?' Their reluctance to kill was wrong for careers. Making friends in the beginning was wrong. Showing anything but the desire for your own survival wrong for these unfortunate children.

After that occurrence, where both amity and the ability to love were demonstrated by the otherwise stone-cold careers, they took care in hating each other. Each of them: Cato, Clove, Glimmer and Marvel, agreed that it was not to be relived. They convinced themselves to block out the wrong that they had done in that one fateful lunch break, and their twisted and tortured minds forgot the event almost completely. Well, not so much the event, which they could still see as clear as day, but the way it had felt to have friends and to be happy. They infused the memory with their twisted teachings, and mentally condemned it to the point that the memory was but a shell, emotionless and meaningless.

That was your duty, as a career tribute. To not only forget happy memories, but forget the true meaning of happiness itself. Happiness was blood and the scream of tortured children, salty tears mixing with the blood, pooling in dirt. Happiness was the adrenaline rush that accompanied the brutal act of murder. These were not children, these were the worst form of the most beautiful thing.

These were mutilated angels.

"We'll kill them Clove," Cato said firmly, "We'll watch the light leave their eyes. We'll kill everyone who ever challenges us. Because we are the best. You and I are the best of them." Clove nodded, her eyes twinkling with a newly aroused glint. The glint seen in the eyes of a predator; Her brief stay as a girl was over, and the monster had returned, "They don't have a chance against us." Destined to be unhappy was right.

They were the true meaning of star-crossed.

**Yes, I did copy and paste that bit at the start straight from the lovely Encarta dictionary. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, which I found quite interesting to write. I have just had a tooth extracted and I am feeling quite sorry for myself, as my mouth won't stop bleeding and half my face is numb, which makes it look like I have had a stroke. So naturally, I am going on a mad rampage, trying to write up as many chapters for my stories as possible. My classes end tomorrow, so no more homework to occupy me, but for some strange reason they have decided to keep us in school until the 11th doing god knows what, so we'll see how far I get. This is getting dangerously long so I'll end it now with a REVIEW PLEASE! -L**


	11. Chapter 11

_It's never easy to be chosen,_

_Never easy to be called_

_Standing on the frontline when the bombs start to fall_

_I can see the heavens but I still hear the flames calling out my name_

_-Who Am I Living For? by Katy Perry_

* * *

Clove pulled a knife out of her jacket and examined it carefully. This was her largest knife. It was aerodynamic, and it could cut you deep, much deeper than any of her other knives, but she wasn't so keen on it. That kind of weapon was more Cato's style. That's why he was the swords master and she threw her knives. Drawing great portions of blood with each cut simply wasn't her style. She made it last.

Their destination was an unspoken agreement. The finale would take place at the clearing by the Cornucopia, where the games had begun. It was fitting, and as evil as Cato and Clove were, they couldn't resist a good show. Why just kill your enemies, when you could make a masterpiece out of their murders? The Capitol favoured them for that alone.

Cato sharpened his sword impulsively. Clove's shoulders tensed in frustration at the constant noise of the metal against metal, "Stop it!"

"Fine," Cato said irritably, letting his hand drop to his side. But soon enough, as Clove had predicted from the start, he'd started again. Clove went to snatch the sharpener from his hand, but Cato misread the gesture, and all of a sudden, his hand was grasping hers, covering it completely due to it's vast size. Clove looked at him, shocked.

But she held on anyway.

It was definitely a strange sight, two bloodthirsty kids on their march towards the site where they would kill the people who had been their friends, holding weapons in their outside hands, and their other hands grasping each other's. Not a word was said.

* * *

Glimmer and Marvel trudged along dejectedly. They didn't want to kill Cato and Clove, but moreover, they were scared that they physically _couldn't_ kill Cato and Clove. And as much as they liked their allies, they didn't want to die. Deep down, they didn't value Cato and Clove's lives over theirs. They were nice to some extent, but they weren't martyrs.

The training in District 1 wasn't quite as full-on as it was in District 2, especially considering their current mayor, who was a bit of a pacifist. Glimmer and Marvel were very skilled with weapons, but the trainers weren't the monsters they employed in District 2, and the tributes were a lot less blood-thirsty as a result. Those with a good head on their shoulders weren't even that enthusiastic about volunteering, as a pose to those crazy kids from District 2. That's what they had always called them, knowing that one day their future, their alliance would depend of them.

Those crazy kids from District 2.

* * *

When Cato and Clove finally reached the Cornucopia after following the sun westwards all day, their clasped hands promptly fell flatly to their sides. It was show time, and they had arrived at their stage.

Glimmer and Marvel, who had been coming from the west to the east, in the complete opposite direction to Cato and Clove, arrived not long after. Before stepping out onto the stage where the battle was soon to commence, Marvel put a finger to his lips and bent down, scooping up a handful of mud.

"Your fucking hair is practically glowing in the twilight. Your head will be the biggest target in sight," Marvel said irritably, and without hesitation, he began to lather the mud into her hair. She looked at him with a scowl, "You've been waiting to do that all games." He smiled weakly, "Guilty."

And with no more excuses for procrastination to be made, they stepped out into the clearing.

Darkness was falling quickly, but Cato and Clove could make out enough to see that their enemies had stepped out onto the plain that was soon to be freshly spattered with blood.

"Lets do this," Clove said simply, without any malice or energy in her voice. All pretense abandoned, Clove wasn't the stereotypical villain, but a villain nonetheless, who was ready to kill, but didn't even find it to be a big deal. It was part of life, part of her nature.

A predator.

And what the District 1 tributes lacked soon began apparent, as weapons began to fly and clash. In the clearing of the Cornucopia, and almost full darkness, there were two predators, and two prey, who thought that maybe, they might be able to contend with the predators.

They couldn't.

Glimmer was the first to die. Darkened hair wasn't enough to help her avoid Clove's knives, which flew with a brutal intensity at the girl she had once called a friend. The changes that underwent Clove during her brief sixteen years were ghastly. To make a monster of a little girl was possibly the worst crime one could make. But some may argue Clove was never a normal little girl to begin with. Either way, by the end, and by the time she killed Glimmer, she was twisted far too far.

She simply didn't care anymore.

Marvel didn't really know what to do after Glimmer died, not that she'd been a brilliant asset in battle from the beginning. He wasn't hard for Cato to kill. A simple stab would have done it, but that wasn't Cato's style.

Stupid Cato.

* * *

**CLIFFHANGER! Sorry to do that to you. Hopefully I will update very soon, and reviews are always appreciated. Would it completely kill you if I killed Cato? To be honest, I haven't yet decided his fate... DUN DUN DUN! -L**


	12. Chapter 12

The rain poured down as Cato pinned Marvel against the ground, smiling sadistically at the boy he had once, for the briefest of moments, considered a friend. And for all the help it gave Marvel, he might as well not have. Cato raised his sword, and Marvel closed his eyes gently. Not squeezed tight in fear, but peaceful, as though about to fall asleep. Giving himself up to Cato completely. Tears leaked out from under his grimy eyelids.

This image would have moved the heart of anyone of any less evilness that Cato: a boy resigned to his death, crying for his love, and for all the destruction in the world. But Cato was evil enough, even if only by a little bit, to smile in the face of such heartbreak and suffering.

"Weak," Cato hissed, stabbing the sword downwards into Marvel's right arm. He smiled as he heard the bones splinter, and the blood came rushing out, "Would you like me to do the other arm?"

Marvel said nothing, good as a corpse already, Cato noted, "Open your eyes, and fight!" he bellowed, spitting saliva and blood in Marvel's face in his rage, "Die like a man!"

Marvel did open his eyes, and rage was born inside him. He had never seemed as bloodthirsty and evil as the other Careers, but he had had the same anger and violence nurtured and pressed in his soul. It was always going to burst out at some point, and at this point, after heartbreak and before death, was the best time. With his left arm, he grabbed something out of his belt and jabbed it into Cato's left arm.

The blonde looked at him with an insane smile, "Think that's enough to kill me do you Sparkles? Barely a scratch," he pulled the object out of his arm, still smiling evilly, but when he saw the object, his smile froze. In his hand lay a small hypodermic needle. And then he toppled over as the cannon sounded. Marvel got up slowly, completely shocked.

Clove let out a bone-chilling scream, a heart-breaking wail, as Cato fell dead. She grabbed a knife in each hand as red flashed across her vision, and started towards Marvel, who scrambled backwards slowly, his mutilated arm unable to support weight, dragging along uselessly and leaving behind a trail of blood.

"You killed him!" Clove shrieked, tears streaming down her face before she could even register them. All she felt was pain and anger, "Why did you fucking kill him?!" Marvel stopped moving, and to everyone's surprise, so did Clove.

She looked at him first with angry eyes, which turned to frightened animal eyes, "Marvel," she said softly, "You've stuffed me up."

"I'm sorry," he said, out of habit, then thought a bit, "I should have let you two go home together. I don't even want to survive this, now that Glimmer's gone."

"Well now_ I_ don't want to survive this," Clove's eyes changed again. Sad eyes, "You know, now that Cato's gone. No-one else back home is evil enough to be in my company."

They laughed together, a laugh without happiness, harsh, plain and barking. "We're stuffed Marvel," Clove said, sitting down next to the bleeding boy, "We should just… die. Do everyone a favour."

Marvel raised his eyebrows, "How'd you figure that out?"

Clove rolled her eyes, "If we were to win, we'd be shipped straight into a mental asylum. And if I were working at that mental asylum, I'd quit."

More harsh, empty laughter, and the ensuing silence was broken only by Marvel's casual, "Mind if I borrow a knife?"

"Be my guest," Clove opened her jacket and let Marvel take his pick. He pulled out the biggest knife with a steady hand. "I guess it's only fair, you getting the big one," Clove said matter-of-factly, "You're bigger than me. This one will kill me just as good as any other," she grabbed her own knife, "Ready Sparkles?"

Marvel rolled his eyes, "Please, don't let me die with that nickname. Come on Cloves."

"Fine," Clove said, and tilted her chin towards the sky, towards the Capitol, "Today we will die as Clove and Marvel, because you've killed everyone we love, and because you've turned us into monsters, ensuring we'll never have any friends. Now, we take our lives," she paused as her words sunk in, "That better Marvel?"

Marvel nodded, and he too looked up at the sky, "Goodbye Capitol. Good job ruining our lives. We can't stand to live them anymore. Ready Clove?"

She steadied the knife, pointed at her breast, "Ready. One."

"Two."

"Thr-"

"Stop!" the loudspeaker drummed out, and Clove rolled her eyes. "We proudly present the two dual victors of the 74th Annual Hunger Games, Clove Flare and Marvel Haddington."

Marvel looked at Clove, eyebrows raised, "Are they fucking serious?"

Clove smiled a smile that wasn't really a smile. A cringe. "They're serious Sparkles." She stood up, and pulled him up with her, "Come on, be proud." They lifted their hands up in unison, the universal sign of victory, "We won the Hunger Games Marvel. Now we've just got to cope with the rest of life."

* * *

**Well that's that. Poor messed up Marvel and Clove, winning by accident. Let me know if you'd like me to stop there, or if you'd like me to continue. See, I'd love to continue, but I'm not sure if I'd ruin it by doing so, so you'll have to give me your opinion, as I seem to trust you guys more than I trust myself.**

**Thanks, to all of you, for reading, and I hope I haven't broken any hearts: killing both Clato and Glarvel. My bad guys. **

**Also, just while we're at it, a continuation of this story DOES NOT mean Clarvel. **

**Mwa. You're all brilliant. -L**


	13. Chapter 13

_I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,_

_Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,_

_Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,_

_And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance._

_-I Hope You Dance, Lee Ann Womack_

* * *

"Oh Clove, oh Clove, oh Clove," Enobaria dragged a weary Clove into a chair facing her, "Clove, we need to talk."

Clove focussed on the clock behind Enobaria's head as she sat down herself, and stared into Clove's eyes. Enobaria's eyes were bright green, and when they weren't mad, they made her beautiful, with her hair as dark as night and regal and powerful look to her face. But when she was mad, they transformed her to a monster. Clove wasn't quite sure which one she was yet. She looked troubled, concerned, worried. She looked like a big sister, or a mother.

"Clove, please look at me."

Clove tore her eyes away from the clock and stared into Enobaria's green eyes for a fraction of a second, before she closed her own eyes. The pain was too much.

"Come on Clove," Enobaria's voice was softer and gentler than Clove had ever heard it.

"I don't want to talk to you Enobaria," Clove said after a long moment, "I'm out of the arena, I don't need any more mentoring."

"Maybe you need some advice from me as your cousin Clove," Enobaria suggested, hoping to calm Clove down, but Clove just shook her head, "We've never interacted as cousins before. I don't need help. I need to be alone."

"You still need mentoring!" Enobaria burst out in frustration, "Because the games aren't over yet!" she stared at Clove with a sudden intensity, breathing heavily.

This caught Clove's attention, even in all her grief and confusion, she couldn't help but ask, "What?"

"The Capitol is so unbelievably mad right now. They don't understand the logic behind what you did, and they have made assumptions. You two were going to commit suicide. And then, you didn't. As soon as they announced you two were the victors, you lowered your knife. That of course, led them to believe that you were planning that for the beginning, trying to make sure both of you won. They think it's completely intentional, and completely rebellious. They think that you have manipulated them, stood them up, and humiliated them."

Clove was once more startled into speaking, "Well I sure as fuck didn't mean for that to happen."

"It's confusing Clove. It would certainly seem that you meant to win. Why stop? Why put down the knife?" Enobaria looked Clove right in the eye, and her younger cousin flinched away from the intensity of her gaze.

"I don't know Enobaria," Clove said miserably, "I was just so shocked… and then I just thought, fuck we did it. And I realised that maybe, it would be more productive for me to stay on this world a little longer. I might have been a little melodramatic, after all. Well, I'm not quite sure about that… the future seems pretty bleak Enobaria. I'm going nuts but, I'm alive because of a few split-second decisions. That's the way it is."

"Try to explain that to the Capitol," Enobaria said grumpily, "Nothing makes sense anymore. They think that you're going to start a rebellion, you and Marvel."

"Well," Clove said slowly, "I could just re-commit suicide. No-one to stop me this time. I won't be a threat any more. I will just be dead. My intentions won't matter any more." She stopped speaking there, but in her head said, _And I'll be free._

Enobaria shook her head sadly, "That won't work. They'll reckon you're going all martyr on them, inciting a rebellion or something."

"They think I'm inciting a rebellion?" Clove raised her eyebrows, "Can't they tell I'm a messed up lonely girl who's incapable of doing anything?"

"They're paranoid freaks," Enobaria said grouchily, "And anyway, who knows? Other people might interpret it the way the Capitol did. Decide it's time to do something about these fucked up games. If you were to die, who knows what might happen?"

"Well they can't punish me when I'm dead," Clove shrugged, "Rebellion or not. I don't give a shit how anyone takes my death or my actions beforehand."

"They'll find a way to punish the next best thing. They'll go for your family, Cato's family, whoever was close to you. They won't even care that you're not alive to see it happen," Enobaria said coolly.

"You sure?" Clove shot back at her, flicking her eyes up quickly, then lowering them back down to the floor.

"I'm sure."

Clove looked at Enobaria, considering her for a moment, "I guess that would be selfish, wouldn't it?" Clove asked sulkily, and Enobaria contemplated her cousin thoughtfully.

"I can't tell you that," Enobaria said slowly, "I can't make that decision for you. I'm just going to tell you that if you die, the people you care about will die. And you do care about people Clove, don't you dare deny it."

"So basically I'm stuffed," Clove said flatly, watching Enobaria closely for her reaction.

Enobaria shrugged, "Basically."

* * *

**Poor Clove and Marvel. I know this is a little Katniss/Peeta situation here, but don't worry, we won't have star-crossed lovers or anything. We'll see how things go, but I'll work on a strong, original plot. I think I've got one going anyway...**

**Well, thanks for reading. Feel free to review, I'll be eternally grateful.**

**Did anyone else think of those aliens from Toy Story when I said that? -L**


	14. Chapter 14

_The water just keeps roaring by,_

_people get caught up in the tide._

_She stands still inside your heart,_

_but I will never know a rock._

_Two days_

_and I haven't seen your face._

_But I love you,_

_do I not?_

_-No Idea Where I Found This :)_

* * *

"You have the interviews tonight!" Cashmere said with as much energy and cheer as she could muster.

Marvel stirred in his bed. _Glimmer?_ His vision shifted into focus. _Bad luck - it's only Cashmere._ He pulled the quilt over his head, enveloping himself in the welcoming darkness. _Back to bed for you mate._

"Marvel!" the falsehood of Cashmere's cheerful demeanour was already beginning to show - the stillness of her smile, which looked like it would be painful for her cheeks, and the frustration edging her voice.

_Don't listen to her._ Marvel remained motionless. _She'll leave soon enough._

"Alright then!" Cashmere was blatantly mad now, "Gloss told me to be nice, and I tried, but I knew it wouldn't work." She stomped over to the bed and ripped the covers off, "Rise and shine sweetheart!" her voice dripped with sarcasm, turning the loving phrase ugly and black, "Get your ass up! You're a victor now, so man up and act like it!"

Marvel looked at her, his vision sliding in and out of focus as he groggily decided what to do with himself. That voice in his head was being mundanely quiet and unhelpful. He looked for it's guidance, but was greeted by an echoing silence.

"You there Marvel?" Cashmere waved a hand in front of his face, then sighed and grabbed him by the arm and yanked him out of the bed roughly, "Your prep team is waiting for you."

She dragged him down the hall and into the room where the brightly coloured and eccentric prep team eagerly awaited him. Cashmere pushed him into a chair and hissed, "Wake up Marvel. You're still alive, remember?" and stormed out as the haze of colours that were his prep team descended on him.

Funny, he couldn't remember any of their names. How long had he been in the arena? It felt like years.

_The freaks are upon us._ Marvel bristled in irritation, that crazy little voice had come back too late. _Well sorry._ And his head was quiet once more.

"Your skin is a disaster!" one Capitol woman shrieked, drawing out the word disaster, high pitched and far too close to his overwhelmed head for his liking. He looked up at her, and his eyes were instantly dazed and disoriented due to her glowing yellow eyes and her skin, pink and purple shockingly swirled over her skin in a marble pattern, and studded with hundreds of glittering piercings.

He closed his eyes again as they plucked him, scrubbed him and prodded him into what they liked to call 'a reasonable human being.' One of them chattered on about how brilliant he'd look with some neck tattoos, his longer fingers touching Marvel's neck eerily as he indicated where they would be, and the prep team argued over blue or silver.

"No tattoos," Marvel managed to get out and then hand dropped off his neck as the owner of it sniffed in disappointment. _How melodramatic._ Marvel nodded and contributed, "He's a bit of a sook really. Soap opera material."

The prep team looked at him in shock, "Who are you talking to?" one asked in surprise. _It's not like I have a name or anything. I don't want to talk to them._

"Someone with more sense than you," Marvel grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest defensively. The prep team looked at each other in concern, and then, after a short nod from the others, the woman with yellow eyes who had been so enraged over the condition of his skin rushed out of the room.

_What was that about?_

After another hour or so of torture at the hands of his prep team they picked him up out of his chair and stood him up in front of the mirror to look at himself. He opened his eyes just a fraction, and saw a disgusting, healthy person he didn't know standing in front of him. He closed his eyes again.

_Enter, new Marvel._

He felt hands spin him around as the prep team got their turn to ogle at him and discuss the marvellous job they had done. _Marvellous? Really?_

"Shut up," Marvel grumbled, and the prep team shared startled glances once more, then went on discussing all their alterations together.

"Look at those lovely legs!" one of them was trilling, "We've got them perfect, the right shade of tan, definitely. And his toenails are impeccable!"

"You're only saying that because you did them!" another shrieked, "The tan is too pale, he looks completely natural. Where's the fun in that? And I think the big toe on his right foot is more prominent than that on his left."

_Why does this matter? You'll be wearing shoes._

"His hair looks perfect, just a shade darker. I love the highlights you've run through it!" Marvel couldn't even tell if this one was a man or woman through his closed lids, the voice was too unnatural to belong to either sex.

"He'd look better with neck tattoos," one said obstinately.

_For God's sakes… no means no._

"Open your eyes love," one of them said brightly, "They're your best feature, such a stunning blue."

Marvel opened them, and the whole prep team took a step back in surprise. His eyes had changed since he entered the arena. He had wild, scared, piercing, eyes that bore into theirs. Warrior eyes. Survivor eyes. Animal eyes.

"Try not to look so manic, sweetheart," one of them said, giving his cheek a pinch and flashing him a not-so-reassuring smile - a flash of golden fangs glared at him.

_This one's an Enobaria fan._

"Your stylist will be here in half an hour," one of them assured him with yet another startling smile, a purple tongue studded with emeralds. And then the door closed behind him, and he was left with the voice.

_This is the kind of shit you're going to go through for the rest of life. Have fun._

* * *

**Next chapter is interviews! What do you want to happen? I was thinking of interviewing them at the same time, or would you prefer them separately? Review and let me know. -L**


	15. Chapter 15

_All this time spent in vain_

_Wasted years_

_Wasted gain_

_All is lost_

_Hope remains_

_And this war's not over_

-Shattered, Trading Yesterday

* * *

There were two straight backed chairs sitting there on the stage, black and imposing. Clove didn't want to sit in one of those. She didn't want to sit up there, full stop. What had she gotten herself into?

Marvel was the first called to the stage. Maybe it was because he was male, maybe it was because he was from District 1, as a pose to 2. Clove didn't care either way. She wanted to delay the time until she got out there. Her hands tugged at the white fabric her dress was made out of. This outfit exuded an angle that couldn't be more different from her pre-games interview - vicious to competitors, but appealing to the Capitol. She had hated that dress.

This time she was in a simple white gown, it clung to her at the back, but the front was completely loose. It was light, comfortable, and touched the floor, which was much better than the ridiculous amount of leg she had shown in the last one. She had underwear less revealing than that stupid thing. But in this, she was meant to look as young, as innocent and as weak as possible. Any other day, Clove would have refused to go up there in front of the crowd and pretend to be weak. This time, she didn't have to pretend.

"Please welcome to the stage, the lovely, the gorgeous, the winner of the 74th Annual Hunger Games, Clove Flare!" Clove walked out. _Do you remember how to walk Clove?_ One foot, then the next. One foot, then the next. Clove smiled to herself - she was good at walking. She sat down, and, mustering all the will she possessed, turned her eyes to look at Caesar.

"How are you today Clove?" Caesar asked warmly. Clove smiled sadly, maybe there were some good people in the Capitol.

"Oh, I don't know Caesar," she answered honestly, "I'm pretty tired." Caesar looked at her expectantly, and she swallowed, searching for her voice that she'd had just moments ago. "I'm really pleased to be talking to you again Caesar. Our last interview was fun."

She exhaled happily, she'd said the right thing. Caesar smiled, "I've always enjoyed talking to you Clove. And of course, you too Marvel. It seems the charismatic survive." The audience laughed. "So, can one of you tell me what it was like to be in an alliance together? Do you two get along?"

Marvel looked at Clove. Clove looked back at him._ You answer. No, you._

"Clove was just great to be in an alliance with," Marvel's voice was choked, raw, but fond. It was a strange sounding mixture, "You saw her fight, anyone would want that on their side."

Too late, Clove realised the appropriate response, if not kind words, would be a smile. She hoped the size of the one plastered on her face made up for the fact it was late.

The audience were looking at her strangely. Not good. "Oh, I don't know Marvel. Cato," her voice caught on that name for the briefest of moments, "he was pretty good too. We all were. I think that we worked well because we understood each other."

Marvel nodded, apparently lost in thought. Caesar cleared his throat, "Obviously the deaths of your respective District partners were devastating. Did you… see that coming? Were you ready for the sadness?"

"Nothing can prepare you for a loss of that immensity," Marvel said quietly, and those were all the words that needed to be spoken. Clove agreed completely.

"Clove, could you maybe enlighten us, what were the thoughts going through your head as a clearly, uh, crazed Marvel killed Cato? What were you thinking? What did you feel? Could you share with us?"

_It felt like everything inside me was breaking simultaneously and I was shocked to look around and see nothing falling down, and see that there was no earthquake or fire like the one I felt in my heart. I felt mad, I felt like I needed to kill. In that instant, I had to kill Marvel. But then I didn't, because all the killing is so stupid and I was sick of it all and enough is enough and your games are stupid but you'll never understand because you think it's entertainment. These people, us people, we're real. And you either don't notice, or you don't care. You'll never know what it feels like to ache like I did that night. You'll never understand any of this. I don't understand either. I stopped the knife when I should have kept going it wasn't because of the riches you promised me I just was so shocked and then all of a sudden I won and it was too late to change my mind. In that instant you decided my fate and you decided I was alive. Fuck you. I don't want to be alive. And now I'm in trouble because you think I'm rebelling but I couldn't care less about rebellion because I'm a selfish bitch I don't care about other people going through it I just want it to be over for me but it isn't because it will never be because of you. I hate you._

"No Caesar, I don't think I could."

* * *

In the years that followed, there was rebellion. There was rebellion even though Clove and Marvel were both too weak to support it. They hid away in their houses in their respective Victor's Villages, ignoring what went on outside their doors. Clove threw a lot of knives that year, into walls and chairs and tables and the floor, until her house was almost as scarred as her soul. Marvel read, but he didn't really register. A thousand books looked at but not thought of, because there was no more room in his mind. He belonged to sadness, and sadness alone. Neither of them were fighters. They were just too weak, and that was the sad truth of it.

One day, in the dead of the night, ten Peacekeepers forced their way into Clove Flare's house. The same was happening in the house of her fellow victor, who lay sleeping, seeing death behind closed lids. Clove was awake from the moment they touched her door, startled by her paranoia-sharpened senses. She put on some shoes, she put on a jumper and some gloves and a scarf, and she walked downstairs into the kitchen where the Peacekeepers stood with her hands up.

"I know what you're here for mates."

And they took her by the arms and led her away.

* * *

Marvel resisted at first, as one does when woken from their sleep by rough hands on your arms, on your face, on your legs. He killed one Peacekeeper and mutilated another's hand with the knife he slept with, until he properly awoke and realised what was going on. He was outnumbered, his cause was lost before it began.

And they took him by the arms and led him away.

* * *

One day, the day after, in fact, Marvel and Clove met again for the first time in over a year, the apparently invincible team reunited in a cell.

"We've fallen a long way," Clove said with a wry smile as she was walked into his cell.

And that was all that needed to be said for the rest of the day and the ensuing night, two sad, sad, people sitting against a cold wall with their knees hugged to their chests in the cold. Clove gave Marvel her scarf, and still not a word was said. And then in the dusk of the next day, the two were taken from their shared cell and walked out to a stage. The same stage they had sat on together in days gone past, being interviewed by Caesar Flickerman, once separately, once together as joined victors.

But this time there were no chairs. No interviewer in a blue wig. But there was a crowd. My, there was a crowd, the entire population of the Capitol. Clove scanned the wave of colours, slightly diminished due to the lacking supplies caused by the rebellion. _Well, it's done something useful. _

And there were lights. The Capitol, even in times of war and poverty, were all about the show. Coloured lights littered and swirled around the stage, changing shades and sweeping across in great arcs. Two spotlights were set up side by side. There was no question as to who was to stand in them.

Guided by the Peacekeepers, Clove stepped into the one on the right, Marvel to her left. They shared one look: _oh fuck._

Their hands were chained, and they stood tall, facing a million people gathered before them, watching them. The feel was so different from any seen by the either of them. There was no excitement or anticipation, no cheering, no smiles. All there was, was fear.

Clove and Marvel were forced to kneel, and blocks were brought out, which they lay their heads on.

"They're bringing the 1500s back," Marvel said with a smile and tone that dripped with irony. The crowd weren't sure whether to titter with nervous laughter or look away. Most did both.

"Hear that Marvel?" Clove asked her partner, her voice also heard by all, "We're funny. Chopping block humour."

No-one laughed. _Good._

Two men stepped out. They had not the colours and frivolity of the Capitol. These were Peacekeepers, District 2 bred for sure. Axes glinted in their hands.

"Shouldn't we be blind-folded for this?" Marvel asked.

"History nerd," Clove rolled her eyes.

The crowd held it's breath. The executioners raised their axes. Clove and Marvel both knew, in that moment, they had about five seconds to live.

"What?" Clove addressed the crowd, "Aren't you going to cheer?"

And with the swish and thud of an axe, two heads rolled, and the rebellion was killed. Ironic. The Capitol needn't even bother killing the actual perpetrators.

No-one cheered.

* * *

**I am fully aware that that was a weird ending to a weird story, and I am aware that due to some boring chapters in the middle I have lost a lot of readers so this chapter will be virtually unread BUT I still love it. **

**I loved writing this story, this chapter in particular, and I know there have been times with ages between updates, (such as this,) and that there have been some bad patches but for any of you that have stuck it out and are reading this author's note: thank you. You are incredible, and apparently very persistent. I really hoped you enjoyed this. **

**Leave me a review, and tell me what you thought of this story, because honestly, I don't know what to think myself. Thanks again. -L**


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